


Between a Stone and a Hard Place

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Difficult Decisions, Domestic Fluff, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friends With Benefits, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Sex, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Lies, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Warning: Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Getting close to an Avenger was the perfect way to get what Loki wanted, and at first, it seemed like everything was going to plan. But he didn’t mean to fall in love, and the closer he gets to his freedom, the closer he comes to losing what matters most.





	Between a Stone and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first one of these where I went fuck it, who cares about the 2k goal, this is going for as long as it needs to. Can you tell?  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“I made a mistake.”_

Loki knew that it was a bad idea– that oh, it was even far worse than that, the word ‘bad’ not at all capable of encapsulating the complete and utter _stupidity_ of what he had decided to do.

But he didn’t have a choice. The Avengers had taken possession of the Mind Stone, and Loki _needed it_ more than he had ever needed anything else in his entire _life._

You see, when the Hulk broke Loki’s spine and cracked his skull against the floor of Tony Stark’s penthouse, he had shaken loose the hold that Thanos had over Loki, but he had not severed it entirely.

Thanos would not be able to properly restore the bond without being at least in close proximity, and more likely with actual physical contact– and Loki was planning on never getting that close to Thanos ever again. But if Thanos got hold of the Mind Stone then he would be able to restore the connection immediately, and that was a threat that Loki would _not_ leave hanging over his head.

So, Loki had a desperate need to get close to the Avengers, and he needed to do so quickly. Of course, he knew that offers of friendship would never be met with anything other than pure suspicion. He needed to gain trust, and he knew that he was likely to only manage that if he could focus all of his attention on an individual, rather than on the group as a whole. There was less chance of being caught that way, and far more opportunity for manipulation.

And if Loki had to choose one of the Avengers to spend likely a fair amount of time with, then he knew exactly which one he would pick.

—

Considering the kind of threats the mortal was used to dealing with, getting inside the penthouse of what used to be Stark Tower was ridiculously easy. Although, Loki supposed that Midgard lacked in true mages capable of laying wards, so the abysmal absence of magical protection was likely not due to want of trying– but rather almost certainly simple ignorance.

The thought was almost a painful one, but it worked in Loki’s favour, for it meant that he was simply able to appear inside.

He remained out of sight at first to judge the best plan of attack, holding his seiðr around him in a protective blanket which would stop both eyes and cameras from detecting him.

Stark was, thankfully, present, sitting near one of the windows and tapping away at his phone. Loki was mildly curious, but not enough to go and look– instead, he glanced away and allowed his gaze to linger on the room, letting the hazy memories of his time under Thanos’ careful watch help him find a good way to catch Stark’s attention in a manner that would be somewhat positive.

And when he was ready, he lifted his shroud and announced his presence to the Avenger on the other side of the room.

“So,” Loki said, leaning against the bar and pretending he didn’t see the repulsor that Stark hurriedly and yet still smoothly aimed at his head. “How about that drink?”

Despite his outward calm, there was a moment where Loki was prepared to throw up a shield, remembering the sting of those repulsors from before and having no desire to repeat the experience. Thankfully, however, the shield was not needed. Because Stark, as it turned out, was not an honourable man– but he _was_ a curious one, and his desire to know why Loki had shown up out of the blue overruled his instincts to defend himself.

“All right, Reindeer Games,” Stark said, letting the repulsor fold neatly away into his watch before stepping around to the other side of the bar. “But no death and destruction, you hear me? I only just got this place fixed up since your last visit.”

“I can promise no death and destruction,” Loki said, articulating each word with enough care that Stark narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“That was _not_ an invitation to push those boundaries,” Stark said, using the bottle he had just fetched from a shelf to gesture at Loki pointedly. “Think of them as guidelines, not limits.”

“Perhaps you should consider being more specific in your bargains, Stark,” Loki advised.

“Was it a bargain?” Stark replied, not even looking up as he began to pour the amber liquid into a glass. “I thought it was merely a friendly request.”

That took Loki by surprise more than anything else had– because although he knew that Midgardians threw words around with less care than most other races, he had not expected the word _friendly_ quite so early in the conversation.

Perhaps… this would be easier than he thought.

Indeed, it was certainly easier in terms of his own state of mind– he had always found Midgardians trying, due to their narrow focus and their tendency to forget about the long term. And yes, Loki had known that Stark was different from most, it was why he had chosen the inventor over the other Avengers for his purpose after all, but… he had not expected to _enjoy_ the mortal’s company quite so much.

After only one half of a conversation, Loki could already tell that the man would actually be able to keep up with him on intellect and wit, if not match him entirely. That kind of person was a rare find, and Loki knew that he had certainly made the right decision.

Stark, however, still seemed confused.

“Loki, why are you here?”

“For the company,” Loki replied. “I am sadly lacking in intelligent conversation these past weeks, and I thought that I might find some here. Clearly, I was mistaken.” Loki offered a smirk on that last quip, but Stark didn’t even seem to notice it.

His eyes widened slightly– not enough that most would have noticed it, but Loki had always been a master at reading his opponents. “Are you saying that you were _lonely?_ ”

“I’m saying that you seemed interesting enough to talk to, and that I regretted not having the chance to do so when last we met.” The moment the words had fallen from Loki’s lips he regretted them– after all, reminding Stark of the damage Loki had done to his home was not a particularly good method of gaining his trust.

Thankfully, though, it seemed that the Norns were on his side.

“Yeah, taking over the world doesn’t really leave all that much space for small talk,” Stark agreed, sliding away from the difficult topic with the skill of someone used to navigating dangerous waters. “Although, I think we did pretty well, considering.”

Loki grinned. “Indeed. You did manage to invite me on this date, after all.”

At that, Stark froze, staring at Loki incredulously– just as Loki had hoped that he would. It was somewhat satisfying, seeing that he could still manipulate this mortal to _some_ extent, even if he were only managing the very occasional success.

“I’m sorry, this _what?”_ Stark asked.

“Date,” Loki echoed, tilting his head in faux confusion. “I was under the impression that is the Midgardian term for when two parties arrange a meeting to spend time together. Am I incorrect?”

There was a slight pause, but then—

“You know what?” Stark said, considering Loki almost speculatively– but _certainly_ appreciatively. “I don’t think you are.”

Loki matched Stark’s smirk, and it sharpened as he noticed the way Stark appeared satisfied by it. So Stark had noticed the lie there, hmm? Interesting.

“Sir.”

Loki froze at the sudden addition of a new voice, and glanced around, searching for its owner, worried that he had been caught.

“Don’t worry,” Stark said, and Loki was surprised to realise that the mortal actually _meant_ those words to be comforting. “That’s just JARVIS, he’s my AI. Say hi, JARVIS.”

There was a pause before JARVIS spoke again. “Sir, I believe that I should warn you against your current course of—”

“You still haven’t said hi, JARVIS, don’t be rude,” Stark interrupted, shooting Loki a grin.

Loki found it hard to return the smile, because it was clear that JARVIS could see through the ruse far more easily than Stark. But then, he had been expecting to be able to focus on just the one person, and he had not factored in an AI.

Even through his worry, however, Loki could not help but be awed. Stark was but a Midgardian, and yes, Loki knew by now that he was incredibly intelligent– but Loki had expected him to be constrained by the limits of his society. And yet, here he was, having created something so incredible that even far more advanced civilisations could not have hoped to create its like.

Loki was brought out his thoughts by bickering voices, and he chastised himself for losing focus.

“JARVIS, really,” Stark was saying, “There’s no need to nag me. I know what I’m doing.”

“As always, Sir,” JARVIS replied, and even Loki could hear the sarcasm in his tone. “However, may I remind you that—”

“Mute,” Stark snapped. Then he rolled his eyes, and returned his gaze to Loki. “Sorry,” he said. “He’s normally not… like _that_. He’s just protective, that’s all.”

“I can understand that,” Loki promised– and then, he took a bit of a gamble. “It is not like he has much reason to trust me, after all.”

“That’s true,” Stark admitted, nodding thoughtfully. And Loki held his breath for a moment while the conversation paused, the gears in Stark’s mind clearly moving at full rate. Loki had almost begun to wonder if he had judged the situation wrong, but then Stark’s smile returned. “I think, on this one, I might be willing to reserve judgement. Do you want another drink?”

Loki nodded, a little too stunned by the sudden question to respond in any other way. Stark went around the bar again to retrieve the bottle, and when he returned, Loki couldn’t help but notice that rather than leaving a stool between them as he had before, Stark took the seat directly at Loki’s left side.

The plan really was working perfectly.

It was only a few minutes later, after Loki had emptied his glass, that he made the decision to move a little further. It had not been in his original plan, but… he simply could not help himself. Because Stark was not only pleasing to look at, but intrigued Loki more than any being had managed in a very long time.

Stark had used his left hand to pour the last round, which meant that the bottle had been placed too far for Loki to easily reach. But really, that merely provided an opportunity, for it meant that Loki could stretch over him, brushing his fingers across Stark’s arm as he did so. He didn’t do any more than that, however– it had been a test of sorts, nothing obviously laced with intention of its own. But rather than freezing or flinching away, Stark met Loki’s gaze and _smirked_.

Oh _yes,_ Loki was most certainly enjoying this.

Loki’s first touch opened a floodgate, and it almost turned into an unspoken challenge to see who could touch the other the most using outwardly innocent excuses. The bottle changed hands several times, though Loki noted that neither of them were actually _drinking_ much– just letting their fingers brush, hands lingering together a little longer than necessary.

And all it took was for one of them to push a little further, to toe the line and test the boundaries– for Loki to stand and lean in, placing his hands on the bar either side of the mortal so that Stark was caged between his arms– for Stark to lean up and crush their lips together, drawing Loki into a filthy kiss.

They made it to the bedroom, though they certainly had not travelled in a straight line– items of clothing remained strewn down the hallway, and Loki was certain there was at least one set of finger-marks in a wall from where he had sought something to hold on to when Stark had taken the time to undo the lacings on Loki’s trousers with his teeth.

The sex wasn’t soft, and it didn’t feel like intimacy– it was a clash of wills, the both of them so determined to one up the other and prove their prowess that they went far further than Loki suspected either of them _expected_ they would.

And when they were both sated after two, three, four rounds, Loki’s seiðr working wonders after Stark had made an offhand comment that _it would be interesting if your magic could_ – they fell apart to lie panting side by side, not touching yet not overly far apart.

It was several minutes before either of them were able to find their thoughts and catch their breath well enough to talk.

“So,” Stark drawled, rolling onto his side to stare at Loki with a warm mix of curiosity and satisfaction. “That was fun.”

And despite himself, Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes, feeling the mirth rise in him far easier at Stark’s quip than it normally would have at an apparent dismissal of what had truly been a rather extraordinary experience.

“I suppose it was,” Loki replied, matching Stark’s tone.

“I don’t suppose you’d be up for this again sometime?” The question was laced with an arrogance that was clearly meant to hide the tentativeness, but didn’t quite manage the task.

Loki knew that it was a bad idea, that it would be all too easy to get ensnared. Because with his flushed skin, his hair such a mess, his lips swollen and his eyes so bright– with marks littered all over his neck and chest that Loki had put there himself, Loki couldn’t help but think that Stark looked rather divine, and it was hard to imagine never having this again.

But, look. It wasn’t what Loki had _planned_ , he was honestly a little embarrassed by the way that he had allowed himself to be drawn into the mortal’s bed– but it had still achieved what he wanted, what he had come here to do in the first place.

So he gave Stark an affirmative answer, and he left feeling rather satisfied with the night’s events– though he tried not to examine which parts left him feeling the most pleased, and told himself that he had done well to progress the plan.

—

Loki waited a week before returning, not wanting to appear too eager– for surely then, Stark would wonder why. When he did return, it was at the same time and in the same place that he had arrived before, though he didn’t bother to shroud himself at first.

He found Stark by the bar, a drink in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face– at least until he noticed Loki’s presence, and then he turned his gaze in the direction of the god instead.

“Loki,” Stark said, saying his name in a tone that was somewhere halfway between surprised and delighted _._ He left his drink on the bar as he stood, and he gazed at Loki almost as if he didn’t believe it. “You’re back.”

“I said that I would be, did I not?” Loki replied.

Stark didn’t waste any time– he took the few steps necessary to throw his arms around Loki’s shoulders, and then he pressed up on his toes and caught Loki’s lips in a searing kiss. Loki’s hands immediately found their place at the small of Stark’s back, and he drew the shorter man close against him, responding to the kiss with an eagerness that was perhaps not _entirely_ related to the clear success of the first part of his plan.

But by the time Stark’s hands were sliding under Loki’s shirt, the Mind Stone was no longer in his thoughts– and by the time he was pressing Stark into the couch, their impatience not allowing for the trip to the bedroom, he had almost forgotten that there had been another reason for his visit.

The pattern continued with Loki appearing far more frequently as the weeks wore on. He told himself that it was to grow closer to Stark so that he might gain more information on the Avengers, so that he could get closer to the _Mind Stone_.

But just as Loki was a master liar, he also could spot a lie from a thousand miles away– even if that lie was one he was trying to tell himself. And as Stark became Anthony, as rough kisses became soft, as leaving the moment they were done turned into nights of curling up together and lazy, pleasurable mornings… Loki _knew_ that he was slipping, that his priorities had shifted too easily toward something else.

And yet, somehow… Loki found that he didn’t really care.

Loki hardly thought about _why_ he was there bar the knowledge that he was there for _Anthony_ , that he wanted to spend time with the mortal for no other reason than for his company, for his smile, for the way that he made Loki feel.

There hadn’t been any warning– it had snuck up upon him without his permission, had ensnared him and tugged him down to the depths without any hope for recourse. Loki was in far too deep, and there was nothing, now, that he could do about it– if, that is, he had wanted to.

For despite his initial misgivings, Loki was truly enjoying the fall.

—

By the time four months had passed since that first night, Loki might as well have been living in Anthony’s penthouse. There wasn’t a night that he spent away from Anthony’s side, because there wasn’t any reason to– Anthony ensured that JARVIS kept the other Avengers out of his quarters, and there was no need for Loki to return to the apartment he had purchased as a place to sleep at the beginning of their relationship.

And oh, JARVIS. Loki got the impression that the AI was still not very fond of him, for he often responded to Loki’s requests with more bite than was necessary– but never within Anthony’s hearing.

It seemed that while JARVIS was pleased that Anthony had found pleasure in his time with Loki, the AI still did not trust that Loki could possibly have the mortal’s best interests at heart. Loki tried not to be affected by it – after all, Anthony always cut JARVIS’ suspicions off at the knees – and he simply continued as they were, allowing himself to fall further and further into this strange routine.

Then, one afternoon, Anthony returned from a meeting with the Avengers muttering under his breath. He stormed across the penthouse and threw himself upon the couch next to where Loki had been reading, arching his neck and leaning his head over the back.

“Is something wrong?” Loki asked, placing his book to the side.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” Anthony mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes. “SHIELD’s lost your fucking sceptre.”

Loki blinked, caught off guard.

His sceptre…

The _Mind Stone_. He had almost… well, no, he hadn’t _forgotten,_ because the knowledge of what Thanos could still do to him itched at the back of his mind– quite literally, since he could still feel the frayed edges of the connection, scratching and scraping. Most of the time, he had learned to ignore it, to push the sensation away. And when Loki was with Anthony, it was _almost_ as if it weren’t there at all. 

But now, with this reminder, everything came crashing back down and Loki realised that he had become somewhat _complacent_.

And, even worse than that– what little progress he had made on his plan was now null and void, because it seemed that his initial assessment of the situation had been wildly incorrect.

The Avengers did not have the Mind Stone at all– that frustratingly narrow-minded organisation SHIELD had taken it, and now they didn’t have it either.

Loki had made a mistake, and he was concerned that he did not know how costly it was going to be.

And then, to add to the pile of sudden and unexpected bombs that had been dropped on Loki’s head, there was suddenly no reason for him to continue with his original plan– because the Avengers _did not have_ the sceptre. Even on the off chance that they did go looking for it, Loki guessed that he would be able to find it much faster than they, and with them looking for it, and with how much attention they had begun to garner from the Midgardian media, Loki knew that it would not be difficult to track their movements.

Which meant that there was no more reason for Loki to stay with Anthony—

Except, of course, for the minor fact that Loki _wanted_ to.

He had grown fond of the safety Avengers Tower provided, especially since Loki had added more than a few protections of his own. And… he was more than fond of the man himself. There was something in the way that Anthony looked at Loki that made him feel like he was _wanted_ , that made him feel like maybe there was a little more here on both sides than either of them were willing to admit. But right there, in the safety of his mind, Loki let the thought slip free. Loki had come to care for Anthony Stark, and he didn’t want to lose whatever it was that sat between them– and nor did he wish to miss the opportunity to find out where it might lead.

Besides, it wouldn’t mean that he would have to halt his quest– he could still look for the Mind Stone, could still conduct his own search. And then, when he had found the sceptre and he had removed the remains of Thanos’ influence entirely from his mind, he would be able to focus on his life with Anthony without the risk of it being brutally cut short.

To be entirely honest… for a new plan, that sounded like a rather attractive prospect.

“Loki?” Anthony asked, interrupting Loki’s musings as he lightly touching Loki’s arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Anthony,” Loki replied, meaning every single word. “Everything is perfectly fine.”

Anthony appeared a little confused, but when Loki leaned in he accepted the kiss with the same level of enthusiasm as always.

“What about you?” Loki asked as they parted, lingering close enough that his lips still brushed against the corner of Anthony’s mouth as he spoke. “Are you still upset?”

“I can’t say I’m particularly happy,” Anthony admitted, but then he smiled anyway. “You certainly help, though.”

“Perhaps you need some way to work off your frustrations?” Loki suggested, a grin working its way across his lips.

“Actually,” Anthony replied, his gaze darkening. “I think that sounds like _exactly_ what I need.”

—

“You know,” Iron Man yelled, dodging a blast of magic and hurtling through the air. “When you said working off frustrations, this is _not_ what I thought you meant.”

Loki laughed manically, glad beyond measure for the communications device that connected him to Anthony. The other Avengers, who had left Anthony to deal with Loki while they focused on the horde of giant butterflies Loki had set loose on the city, were on another channel, and had no way of hearing their conversation.

The butterflies, of course, would not cause any damage. They would simply result in a little bit of hysteria, just a perfect distraction so that Loki and Tony could spar out in the open without anyone the wiser.

Anthony did not mind when Loki began to use his seiðr in the fight– in fact, he had appeared to be _excited_ by the prospect, and had encouraged Loki to give him ‘— _everything that you’ve got, Lokes, come on! Show me what you can do!’_

And fighting with all the power that he had, not holding back and yet, at the same time, knowing that there were no stakes – other than Anthony’s earlier declaration that the loser would be the one to wash the dishes after dinner, of course—

Well, it was _exhilarating_.

And as Loki let his seiðr loose, listening to Anthony spin curses and compliments together as he tried and _failed_ to avoid the hold of Loki’s magic, he couldn’t help but begin to imagine holding on to this for as long as he could.

—

Despite the elation that being with Anthony brought him, Loki had not abandoned his plans for the Mind Stone. After all, the threat of Thanos was still hanging over his head like a guillotine waiting to fall, and all of a sudden, Loki felt like he had far more to lose than he ever had before.

Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t any luck with tracking the sceptre. He suspected that it was being shifted from location to location, since whenever he thought he had found a trace, he would arrive at the scene only to find it empty and abandoned.

He expected that it would take a while to find, and held on to the fact that if he were having this much trouble tracking it down, then surely so too would Thanos. He truly had thought that he would be in for a much longer wait, a slow hunt over _years_ , perhaps—

So when Anthony woke him up far too early one morning to tell Loki that he was going out, it was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Where are you going?” Loki asked, his voice laced with the softness of sleep.

“Sokovia,” Anthony said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Loki’s head. “We finally found your sceptre, and we can’t wait in case they move it again. I won’t be long though, I promise.”

Loki was frozen, and there were a thousand things that he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Anthony _everything_ , to lay it all on the table, to give him the truth. To tell him that if he found it, he needed to bring it to Loki, because Loki _needed_ that Mind Stone.

But before he could even begin to explain, Anthony’s hand was threading through Loki’s hair and drawing him into a long, slow kiss that somehow left Loki wanting and yet incredibly satisfied all at the same time.

Then, by the time Loki opened his eyes again, Anthony was already gone.

And Loki was… torn. Because while every instinct was screaming at him to go and get the sceptre as soon as he possibly could, he also didn’t think he could steal it from under Anthony’s nose– since Anthony knew exactly where it was meant to be, and there was a chance that Loki was the only person other than the Avengers who had been told.

If Loki went and stole the sceptre now, then there was every likelihood that Anthony would know exactly who had done it, and Loki… didn’t want to lose him.

But he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving the connection to Thanos in his mind, either.

Loki debated for a good while, probably a lot longer than he should have, before he was struck with a thought that had the potential to solve all of his problems. Because, theoretically, it would not take much time at all to entirely sever the connection in his mind, not if he had the Infinity Stone which had forged it in the first place. And if he could get _to_ the sceptre, use it as he needed and then put it back where he had found it before the Avengers arrived, then there would be no reason for them to suspect that he had done so.

Decision made, Loki stood in the middle of the bedroom and donned his armour with a tug of his seiðr, hoping that he wouldn’t need it but not willing to take the risk otherwise, just in case. But just as he was about to leave, he was faced with an attempted interruption.

“Do not do this, Mr Liesmith,” JARVIS said, speaking up with a hard edge to his voice. “If you value Mr Stark’s happiness in any way at all, then you will _not_ do this.”

“I have to, JARVIS,” Loki said, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t understand. I _need_ that sceptre.”

And then, without wasting another moment, Loki used his seiðr to tug at the fabric of the world and stepped through onto the branches of Yggdrasil.

—

It was lucky that the country of Sokovia was a small one, for it did not take long for Loki to locate the Avengers. They weren’t exactly being _quiet_ , after all, and the fortress they were attacking was practically lit up like a beacon. Loki was a little concerned that the Avengers had managed to arrive so quickly – either he had warred with himself for longer than he thought or the Avengers’ quinjet was faster than he realised, or perhaps both – for it would mean that he would have to hurry.

As he drew closer, Loki could see Iron Man spinning between the trees, working in perfect tandem with his teammates to fight off their enemies. The sight had his heart beating just a little too fast in his chest and Loki wished that he could stay, could make sure that Anthony was safe, but knew that he could not afford to be delayed. The Mind Stone was too important to miss this chance.

It was not difficult to make his way through the fortress, for the shielding around it was no match for his power and traversing the hallways undetected was only the simple matter of shrouding himself with his seiðr.

And as he drew closer, Loki could feel that itch in the back of his mind, calling out and drawing him in like a moth to deadly flame.

Trick walls and guards were nothing, little more than irritations in Loki’s way, and it was not long before he had entered a room that was unnervingly decorated with corpses of Chitauri and pieces of their weapons. They brought back memories that Loki would certainly have preferred not to dwell upon, but they were not nearly so chilling as the item that sat in the centre of the room.

It looked just as Loki remembered it– shorter than what Loki would have preferred had he designed it himself, but wickedly sharp and with a shape that allowed for both slashing and stabbing. But of course, the part that drew Loki’s gaze was the shining blue crystal set into the blade– the housing for something incredibly powerful.

Finally, _finally_ , Loki had found what he was looking for, he had located the ticket to his own freedom from a torturous tyranny he had spent far too long suffering under.

Loki’s hands were trembling with anticipation as he reached out for the sceptre, and his fingers had just curled around it when—

“Loki?” The voice was familiar, and it sent Loki’s heart plummeting. He closed his eyes for a moment, preparing himself, and then he turned to face his lover.

Anthony was not wearing his suit, but Loki was sure that it would not be far behind. His expression was confused, his hand slightly lifted as if he were thinking of reaching out.

“Loki,” Anthony said again, and this time his tone was almost pleading, as if he were _begging_ for Loki to say that this was somehow a misunderstanding, that he was only trying to help the Avengers or some other reason that would explain his presence without signalling a betrayal.

Because… Loki was well aware of what the scene must look like. He held in his hands the very same weapon that he had used when he’d attacked New York– the sceptre that he had once tried to control Anthony with. The memory left the taste of bile in his mouth now, and he knew that he would never, _ever_ attempt such a thing upon Anthony again.

“Lokes, give me that,” Anthony said, taking a small step forward, his hand held out all the way now– but in a demand, not reaching for a lover.

And Loki knew that he _couldn’t_. He couldn’t hand it over, not now, not when he was _so close_ to finally getting what he needed.

“Hand over the sceptre, Loki,” Anthony repeated, harsher this time– an _order_.

“I can’t,” Loki said, shaking his head slightly, drawing the sceptre close to his chest– hating how close that brought him to the Mind Stone, but the thought of losing it now was even worse.

Anthony’s expression hardened then, his eyes burning with betrayal. And Loki hurried to try and explain.

“Anthony, you must understand, I need it—”

“For what? To attack us again?”

And Loki was going to deny it– he was going to deny it with every fibre of his being, because it _wasn’t true_ , and he needed Anthony to know that there was nothing he wanted more than to stay at his side, but to do that and for them both to be safe he _needed the sceptre—_

But then something flew out of nowhere and crashed into Anthony’s side, knocking him down. Loki didn’t see what it was– a person, perhaps, but someone who was fast, _impossibly_ fast—

It was clear that there was something here that neither Loki nor the Avengers had anticipated, something that was going to be hard to beat. Loki didn’t know why they were targeting Anthony, but they hardly seemed to have even noticed Loki even though he was the one holding the sceptre. And with the sceptre in his hands, Loki could just _leave–_ after all, no one would have expected any different of him. Even Anthony had turned his back– he had acquired an Iron Man gauntlet and was fighting hard with the desperation of a cornered animal, not believing that he had any backup. But he wasn’t fast enough, and he kept missing that quick, silver blur as it circled around—

Anthony was hit in the side and went sprawling across the floor, and Loki was still frozen, staring, a deer caught in lights and unable to move—

Then there was a young woman, stepping from behind a pile of Chitauri artefacts near where Anthony had fallen. She crouched beside him, her hands glowing red—

“Get away from him,” Loki snarled, the sudden threat of what he _recognised_ as mind magic snapping him out of his indecision. He thrust the sceptre away and toward the table behind him, not caring enough to watch where it landed when his focus was on _Anthony_. Loki threw out his hands and let his seiðr do the damage, flowing out in an unavoidable wave and slamming both of the newcomers into the walls. The runner was knocked out in the attack, his head hitting the wall hard– but the girl was up and snarling all too quickly, her magic whipping through the air, shining in her eyes and reaching for any and all targets in the room.

“You have no control,” Loki observed. And then, as if with the express purpose of proving Loki’s point, she bared her teeth and _charged._

Loki didn’t even bother with a magical attack, then– he merely stepped forward and caught the girl around the throat, protecting himself from the influence of her magic with a shield of green seiðr. She struggled, but she was nothing compared to his strength and his pure _fury_ at what she had tried to do.

After all that Loki had been through, he would always condemn the use of mind magic– and this girl had tried to use it on the very person whom Loki cared for the most.

“After you dared to harm Anthony, you are lucky that I am not going to kill you,” Loki told her darkly.

“You are supposed to be his enemy,” she snapped. “Why are you defending him?”

“People have told me that I’m supposed to be a lot of things,” Loki replied. “I have generally found them to be wrong.”

He didn’t bother with waiting for her reply. He merely squeezed a little tighter– not enough to kill, but certainly enough to restrict the flow of blood to her brain. And once she was unconscious he just opened his hand, and let her fall to the ground beside her equally unconscious brother.

The threat gone, Loki glanced over to the sceptre across the room– but only for a moment, because Anthony was also lying unconscious, and Loki needed to make sure that he was well before he could even think about working on dealing with the mess inside his own mind.

So Loki turned his back on his ticket to freedom and walked instead toward Anthony, kneeling beside him and checking rapidly for injury. Anthony’s heartbeat was steady, and his breathing even– he had been knocked out, but Loki doubted that there would be much damage, save perhaps a concussion. And after spending so much time with Thor a concussion was one of the few things Loki was confident he could heal without any doubt as to his chances of success.

Gently, he pressed his fingers to Anthony’s temples, coaxing his mind back to consciousness and healing the little damage with a brush of his seiðr.

When Anthony opened his eyes and saw Loki, there was a half a moment where his gaze was flooded with relief. But the moment didn’t last, and then Anthony was flinching away.

“No,” Loki whispered. “Please, just let me explain—”

But Loki was never given the chance. His only warning was when Anthony’s eyes flickered to look over Loki’s shoulder– and he drew in a breath, readying himself for another battle—

And then Loki felt the cold touch of Mjölnir at his throat, and he knew that any fight was lost before it had even begun.

—

When the Avengers arrested Loki, he had hoped that he would be able to speak with Anthony, to try once again to explain. But Anthony chose to fly home in his suit, and Loki was forced to sit beside Thor in the quinjet, bound and gagged and without being given the single chance to speak in his own defence.

They did not take him back to the Tower– they took him to a new facility that was in upstate New York, teeming with people and decorated with far too many Avengers’ insignias for Loki’s taste. They took him down to a lower level and locked him in a cell– and he couldn’t help but wonder whether it had been designed specifically with him in mind. For even without the cuffs Thor had placed around his wrists he could tell that he would not be able to use his seiðr to escape from it, and the glass was thick enough that Loki doubted even the Hulk would be able to crack it.

There was nothing for him to do but wait, and resign himself to being a prisoner until they decided what to do with him next.

He wasn’t expecting any visitors– at least, not so soon. Perhaps, Agent Romanoff would come to question him, to find out what he knew of the sceptre, for he was sure that they didn’t realise exactly _what_ they now had in their possession. But she would come later, he knew, after he had been given time to think and realise the futility of his situation, to become more agreeable to a deal.

He certainly had not been expecting Anthony to appear on the other side of the glass mere hours after he had been locked behind it.

Loki had been lying on his back on the floor of the cell, one knee bent up and his eyes closed, going through every conversation he had been part of, every action he had made over the last few months, trying to decipher exactly where he had gone wrong in his calculations.

It was a useless exercise of course, because he already knew the answer– but he couldn’t help it, because he couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe if it were something else, maybe if it wasn’t the way things had started, and the way that he had fallen for a mortal– then maybe, there was still a chance that Loki could get things to work out.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the glass, and then there was Anthony. He was wearing the same clothes that he had been that morning when he had kissed Loki goodbye, and the memory cut painfully through Loki’s mind as he got to his feet.

“Anthony,” Loki said– and he knew he sounded a little desperate, but Loki could not bring himself to care. “Anthony, I promise, I was not going to use it against—”

“JARVIS told me that he suspected you were doing something behind my back,” Anthony interrupted, and Loki realised with a painful jolt that the man had already worked out exactly what he wanted to say before coming down to the cell. That would make it impossibly difficult to try and encourage him to listen. “He thought that you might have been planning on taking down the Avengers, but I always told him no. I always told him that I could _trust_ you. But I suppose that I was wrong.”

“No,” Loki said, trying not to sound to firm but recognising all too well the stubbornness in Anthony’s gaze. Anthony had come to say a certain thing, and once it was said he was planning on leaving– and Loki could not afford to let that happen. “Anthony, I would never have used you to take down the Avengers– that was never my plan—”

“But you _did_ have a plan,” Anthony observed sharply, and Loki did not want to deny it.

“Never to use anything _against_ you,” Loki insisted. “I only needed to get my hands on—”

“The sceptre?” Anthony asked. “Yeah, I know. And then you were going to—”

“I needed it to free myself,” Loki cut in. “I need to get rid of—”

“What? Me?” Anthony snapped.

“No,” Loki said, gritting his teeth. “Anthony, you’re not _listening_. I needed to get the sceptre to use it on _myself_. Once that was done, I was going to get rid of it. I cannot have that near me, not ever again.”

There was a long pause, and Anthony’s eyes flicked up to meet Loki’s for the first time over the course of the conversation.

“Loki,” he said, speaking slowly and almost a little sceptically. “Are you… ill, or something?”

“In a way, I suppose you could say that I am,” Loki said, strained. “There is a _parasite_ in my mind, and I cannot remove it without the sceptre. So I needed it, and yes, I thought that I needed to get the Avengers to trust me so that I could get my hands on it, for I believed that your team had gained possession of it after the battle. By getting close to you I thought that I could gain my own freedom, but it was not long before I started to yearn for something else instead. I never began this with the intention of hurting you, and I stopped pretending that my priorities had not changed a very long time ago.”

“Loki,” Anthony began, but Loki pressed on.

“And now I see that you have thought the worst of me the entire time that we have been together,” Loki said, laughing a little bitterly. “I thought that maybe I had found something good for the first time in my life, something that I could hold on to when I _finally_ had my freedom. I had more reason to fight than I ever had before, because I thought that I had a future to fight _for_.”

Loki turned to face the far wall, not wanting to see Anthony’s confusion turn to mocking incredulity– not wanting Anthony to see the tears that were beginning to form.

“I thought that maybe you felt as I did,” Loki said, his hands in tight fists by his sides so that he would not raise them to wipe at his stinging eyes. “Clearly… I made a mistake.”

“Loki,” Tony whispered. “You were the one using _me_ —”

“No,” Loki replied, his nails digging hard into his palms. “You told me that the Avengers did not have the Mind Stone _months_ ago. I could have left, I could have saved myself this torment. But I didn’t, because I wanted to be with you.” Loki shook his head. “I was a fool. I should have left the moment I realised that you could not help me– I should never have allowed myself to begin to _care_.”

The silence that followed was a long one, and Loki would have wondered whether Anthony had left, if he hadn’t still been able to feel that stare upon his back. And Anthony was the one to break the silence in the end, with a question that Loki almost wished he did not know the answer to.

“Loki… why didn’t you take the sceptre today?” Anthony asked. “You had it in your hands, you had everything that you could have wanted but then you just… left it.”

“Not everything,” Loki whispered, and he heard Anthony’s sharp inhale.

“Loki,” Anthony said again. “ _Why?”_

And finally, Loki turned back, letting Anthony see the anguish that was no doubt etched across his expression.

“You _know_ why.”

Anthony’s expression crumpled, but Loki didn’t think he could bear to look and see what it would turn into. So he moved back to the wall of the cell and slid down it, letting his head come to rest on his knees, no longer _caring_ what Anthony saw.

He was a broken mess, and he had no one other than himself to blame for it. There wasn’t anything that could _fix_ that, so what did it matter now if Anthony saw his weakness?

And as he heard Anthony’s footsteps fade further and further away from his cell, he finally allowed those traitorous tears to fall.

—

The next time Anthony came to visit, it could hardly have even been another two hours, but Loki barely looked up. He wasn’t in the mood to be mocked, or to have his feelings thrown back in his face, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for sympathy. At least, Loki supposed, he’d already given up what his plan had been– there was no longer any need for them to try and interrogate him. The only reasons he could imagine for Anthony to be visiting him again were all hard to think about.

So, Loki did not even open his eyes. He remained leaning against the wall with his legs flat on the floor and his head tilted back, trying to drown out the sound of footsteps. Even when he heard the knock on the glass he didn’t glance over. Why should he, when looking upon Anthony would bring nothing but a worsening of the ache in his chest?

The knocks grew more insistent though, and Loki could not stop his brow from creasing in irritation.

“Loki,” Anthony hissed. “ _Loki.”_

_Go away. Just leave me be._

When the attempts to get Loki’s attention ceased, Loki felt a little disappointed, despite the fact that it had been what he’d wanted. He curled in on himself just a little, his arms tightening around his middle as if that would be enough to hold himself together—

And then an _explosion_ ripped through the air, the sound of it blasting Loki’s ears and causing him to instinctively cover his head. Thankfully though, it had not been large enough to do him any harm– and then, he opened his eyes and stared in complete and utter shock.

Anthony was holding the sceptre in one hand, and there was a large hole in the door where the locking mechanism had once been.

“Oh, so _that’s_ what it takes to get your attention,” Anthony said loudly. “Duly noted.”

It was not difficult to decipher what had happened, and Loki was on his feet in moments.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Anthony replied. “I’m busting you out, now _hurry up.”_

Loki was still rather confused as to Anthony’s motives, but that not enough to prevent him from leaving the cell when the door was wide open.

He could already hear shouts from every direction, and alarms began to blare. Loki realised that Anthony had chosen to do this without the permission nor even the _knowledge_ of the other Avengers, and as his heart began to thunder rapidly in his chest he knew that it was not just from the anticipation of an escape.

“Anthony,” Loki gasped, stumbling forward. “Why are you—”

“Go,” Anthony said, shoving the sceptre into Loki’s shocked hands. “Take this and _go_ , quickly!”

There were already uniformed Avengers’ agents spilling into the room. Loki could hear Thor’s familiar hollering not far away, and he knew that the other Avengers would not be very far behind.

So he curled his right hand around the sceptre and, without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed Anthony’s wrist in his left and pulled them _both_ away from the danger.

He heard Anthony’s gasp as Loki led him through the branches of Yggdrasil, dancing across the fabric of reality and stepping so very carefully so as not to fall into the Gap. Skywalking like this never lasted very long, especially not when they were travelling less than the length of a single American state– and they arrived in Anthony’s penthouse a mere second after they had left the other facility. Loki kept his footing as always, but if he had not used his hold on Anthony’s arm to help steady him, then the inventor would have fallen face first onto the carpet.

“Are you all right, Sir?” JARVIS asked immediately. “Shall I—”

“Do not, under _any_ circumstances tell the other Avengers where I am,” Anthony said sternly. JARVIS didn’t reply, but Loki rather thought that he still believed there was a need to summon someone – or multiple someones – to come to Anthony’s rescue.

And Loki knew that JARVIS was important to Anthony. Despite the way Anthony had dismissed JARVIS’ concerns over his own safety, the inventor loved his creation very nearly as one would love a child, and he did not wish to leave the air between them sour.

“JARVIS,” Loki said. “I apologise for the misunderstanding earlier. When I told you that I needed the sceptre I should have specified what I needed it for.”

JARVIS did not reply, and for a moment, Loki wondered if maybe he had made a misjudgement, that the AI had not been upset about that moment after all. But then, when he felt Anthony tug his arm free of Loki’s hold only for Anthony’s fingers to curl around Loki’s wrist, Loki realised that JARVIS had merely been waiting for someone else to speak instead.

“We all should have said a lot of things,” Anthony said. “I never should have accused you without waiting for an explanation, and I never should have assumed that you wanted the sceptre just to attack us– or even that you wanted _only_ the sceptre in the first place.”

Anthony’s eyes darted down to Loki’s right hand, and Loki followed his gaze, somehow having almost forgotten.

Oh.

“Here,” Loki said, holding the sceptre out to Anthony.

“No, I gave it to _you_ ,” Anthony said, pushing it back. “You said that you need it, so _use_ it.”

Loki searched for suspicion in Anthony’s gaze, for evidence of this being a test. But he didn’t find any– when he looked at Anthony now, he saw only trust.

“Why did you?” Loki asked– because he could hope, but he needed to _know_.

“I realised that you were right,” Anthony said, wincing just a little but not breaking away from Loki’s gaze. “The moment that I saw you with that sceptre I was reminded of the invasion, and what happened in the past was all just thrown at me. And I couldn’t help but remember that I was the one to tell you what we were going after, and that would mean that…” Anthony trailed off a little, but he steeled his nerve once again before Loki had the chance to say a word. “I was afraid of losing you, so I tried to think that maybe, if none of it was real, then it would hurt less, because then it would mean that I wasn’t losing a thing. But when I saw you in that cell it didn’t even matter whether it was real or not. I think, in that moment– even if you hadn’t said that you actually did care, I still would have let you go. Because… you didn’t make a mistake, Loki. I don’t think _either_ of us did.” 

Loki reached up to gently cup Anthony’s cheek, the touch light but purposeful as he leaned down and whispered breathlessly, “I don’t think so, either.”

The kiss felt like it was their first, like now that all the secrets had washed away from between them they could _feel_ so much more than before. They held each other close and kissed with a tenderness that spoke of something deeper than either of them were quite yet willing to name, but which they both knew to be true.

Loki had gained the Mind Stone, but he had also gained something far more precious along the way– something he knew that he would fight to hold on to.

He still needed to sever the connection with Thanos, and they would both need to deal with the consequences of Anthony breaking him out of the cell. It wouldn’t be easy, but Loki was sure that they would be able to manage, to come out the other side of this experience all the stronger than they had ever been before.

But that would be a concern for the hours and days to come. For now, they could simply enjoy the knowledge that they had gained both their freedom and each other– and really, that was all that they would ever need.


End file.
